The Time Between
by JohnGreenGirl
Summary: Simply, the time between the goodbye scene and Natalie's graduation. All the moments we didn't get to see. Keith/Natalie, Rated M. [COMPLETE]
1. Chemotherapy

**_-Chemotherapy-_**

"Trust me, you don't want to watch this, partner," Keith warned Natalie. She was perched like a little bird on the armrest of an ugly recliner Keith was sitting in, IVs connected to a port in his chest. If by some huge miracle he got better, Natalie knew there would be a scar there. This chemotherapy was a last-ditch effort that Keith's dad had asked for. Keith was all his father had left, so he agreed to it even though he didn't think it would do one damn bit of good.

"I told you I'd be here for all of it." Natalie laced her fingers with his just as the nurse started the medicine. It stung as it worked its way through Keith's veins and he gritted his teeth. He didn't want Natalie to see him weak, to see him puke.

But that wasn't really up to him and not even five minutes later Natalie moved the bedpan under his chin with lightning speed. Keith had intentionally not eaten that morning, so it was mostly stomach acid and orange juice that burned his throat as it came up. Natalie brushed his hair off his sweat forehead.

"I'm sorry." Keith's hand shook in hers as he suddenly went cold. Natalie leaned in and kissed his cheek. "There's nothing to be sorry for."

He wasn't going to school anymore. He couldn't, now that he was doing chemo. Something as simple as a cold could kill him with a compromised immune system. They had decided to give Keith a new drug in the hopes it would diminish the tumor, but so far it wasn't looking good.

Natalie had insisted on missing school to be with Keith on his first round of chemo, and she was so glad she had. The color had already all drained from his face. Teeth chattering despite the sweat dampening his hair, Keith let his had flop back against the chair.

For the first time since she'd known him, Keith actually looked sick.

"Will your hair fall out?" Natalie asked, blinking back tears. She was trying to keep conversation going, because the somber silence was deafening.

"What, are you afraid I won't be hot anymore?" Keith smirked though his eyes stayed closed. "Would you still do me if I were bald?"

"I'd do you even if you had two heads." Natalie rolled her eyes, even though he couldn't see her. They were quiet for a long time, Keith fighting the urge to throw up some more while Natalie rubbed hearts into the back of his hand with her thumb.

"No," he said. "It won't fall out. What they're giving me isn't all that strong. They're trying to keep me alive, not kill me faster."

They had already talked about it. Natalie knew the odds. Still, and especially when Keith said it, the thought of him dying brought a lump to her throat and a leaden pit to her stomach. She couldn't imagine life without her partner, not with him still here holding her hand. Not when she could count his breaths and feel the soft give of his cheek when she kissed him.

At some point, Keith fell asleep while the drugs pumped through him. Natalie set the bedpan down on a small table beside her, in case she needed to grab it quickly. Then she pulled out the only secret she'd kept from Keith: her journal. For some reason, she didn't want him to know she was chronicling their days.

She never wanted to forget any part of it. So she wrote about the bowling balls, about eating breakfast in a diner before the sunrise and the contradiction of Keith's eyes shining with excitement as purple stains bloomed underneath from their sleepless night. She wrote about laying in the back of a yellow truck, her head so close to his as they looked up to the stars. She wrote about all the things about Keith that made her happy.

But now she was writing much sadder things, like how Keith's body was racked by the chemotherapy but he still made jokes. Or how when you looked at him and took in the rosy cheeks and flirty smile, you'd never know a tumor was branching its way through the crevices of his brain.

"Excuse me." The sound of the nurse's voice makes Natalie jump, even though it's in a whisper. "I need to disconnect the IVs and flush the port for him. And of course, we'll need to wake up our Sleeping Beauty here."

The doctors had connected tubing to the port beneath his skin so that after this first dose here in the hospital, if things looked good, a nurse could do the chemotherapy at his house.

Though he had been sleeping for over an hour, Keith didn't look anything near rested when he opened his bloodshot eyes.

"Can I have some water?" He asked the nurse in a garbled voice. He wasn't allowed to have anything while the chemo was being given.

"Of course you can, darlin'." The nurse was older and spoke to Keith like he was her child. Natalie got the impression they had seen a lot of each other over the years.

Once he was finally cleared to go, Natalie had to help Keith out. She wrapped her arm around his waist, trying to make it seem more natural and less like she was supporting his weight so he wouldn't feel bad, not that she was even sure he had the energy to feel ashamed. He was practically asleep on his feet.

Natalie led him outside to his yellow truck and while they may have been in that yellow truck, it was becoming increasingly obvious they didn't have all that many opportunities anymore. Still, she drove them to his house where she unlocked the door with the house key Keith's father had given her and brought him inside.

Once they were in his bedroom, she helped him pull his shirt over his head, ever careful of the port and its tubing.

"My cyborg," Natalie forced a smile. Keith smiled sleepily and motioned to his jeans while his eyes took a mischievous turn. He had already kicked off his sneakers. Natalie sighed and shook her head before undoing his belt and slipping off his jeans.

But the exhaustion was written across his face despite the wicked look in his eyes, so Natalie only kissed him softly before dressing herself in one of his t-shirts and sliding into bed with him.

Keith rolled over onto his side not occupied by his cyborg parts and Natalie curved her body around his, resting her hand over his heart. Each beat was incredibly precious to her now that she knew they were numbered.

It wasn't until Keith slipped into sleep that Natalie allowed herself to cry quietly, each pulse of his heart burning beneath the palm of her hand.


	2. Headaches

**_-Headaches-_**

There were migraines, and then there were the mind-numbing, crippling, make you want to split your head open pain that hit Keith from time to time as he got sicker.

It could be a completely normal day when the headache came on; well, what had become normal anyway. His dad had been trained by a nurse on how to give him medicine and flush his port, and they had to do it three times a day. Natalie came over after school and sat with him either in his room or, if he was up to it, in the living room. On the weekends, Natalie practically lived with him and his father.

One Saturday, he was sitting in the cab of the truck while Natalie was on her back underneath it. Keith had his eyes closed, envisioning the underside of the truck he knew so well, giving Natalie instructions on what she needed to be doing down there. He would have liked to be down there with her, but most days recently any time he laid down he immediately fell asleep.

So he had the radio up to keep him from drifting.

"Okay, so what you're going to do now, partner…"

His voice just fell off, and Natalie slid herself out from under the truck and was on her feet so quickly she made herself dizzy. The door of the cab was open, so the first thing she saw was Keith folded in on himself, his fingers twisted in his hair as his hands gripped his head.

Natalie reached over him and turned the radio down before killing the lights. She crawled into the cab with Keith, pulling him into her lap.

Keith didn't yell. He didn't whine or whimper. He didn't make a sound at all. But as Natalie held him there in the hopes that he would know he wasn't alone, she felt hot tears soak into her jeans.

If asked, Natalie wouldn't have a clue how long she held him during that silent battle with himself. It could have been a few minutes or it could have been several hours. All she could tell you is this: It destroyed her heart.

"Natalie," he said, pushing against her and fumbling with shaking hands. Keith's eyes darted around, but they didn't land on any one thing.

"Natalie, I can't _see_." His hands searched over her: the tear stained shorts, her bare legs, the hem of her shirt, until he found purchase and gripped tight to her hands.

Now this, Natalie could tell you: It took exactly twenty three minutes for Keith's vision to come back. Twenty three minutes of Keith crying and begging and Natalie repeating over and over, _it's okay. I love you. It's okay._

And in those twenty three minutes, Keith could tell you this: He found out, for the first time in his life, how much he feared the dark.


	3. The Prom Scene

**_-The Prom Scene-_**

By the time prom rolled around, Keith's immune system was so destroyed that his doctors didn't advise him leaving his house. He was in a wheelchair by that point, and he had dropped about half his weight, not that Keith really had weight to lose in the first place. Natalie couldn't picture Keith at a prom anyway, healthy or not. It just wasn't his style.

Besides, if there was one thing Natalie had learned through sticking by Keith it was that the true friends she had at school were very few and very far between.

"Hey," Natalie said, handing Keith's dad the mail she had picked up from the mailbox on her way in. She more or less lived at the Zetterstrom household; it was her first stop after school and the only place she went on the weekends. It was Friday. Prom day for the rest of the senior class.

"Partner!" Keith said, hollowed cheeks rising into a smile when Natalie entered his bedroom. She leaned down to kiss him and Keith pulled her into him so that she fell into his lap.

"I have a surprise for you. Help me up."

"But the doctor said…" Natalie began, even though she was already taking Keith's hands and pulling him from his chair.

"That I'm a fall risk. My legs aren't broken, partner. They still got some miles on them. Now follow me."

The doctors had said it would be like this. A second wind. That towards the end, it wasn't uncommon for a cancer patient to suddenly show signs of improvement, only for there to be a swan's dive shortly after.

Natalie pushed the thought from her head and followed Keith, who was tugging excitedly at her hand. He led her through the house to the door leading to the garage.

"Keith, what is this?" Natalie asked, taking in the absence of the yellow truck and the white Christmas lights and crepe paper streamers that had taken place.

"This is the prom scene! We got the cheesy decorations, the Dollar Store punch—though my dad wouldn't let me spike it—and the awful music choices I assume a DJ would make even though I just downloaded every song I could think of that has been used during prom scenes in movies."

"We're not exactly dressed for prom," Natalie had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep the tears from welling over her eyes.

"When have we ever done anything the conventional way, partner?"

Keith walked over to the CD player he had set up, refusing Natalie's help in getting there. When he pushed the play button, _Time After Time _started playing.

As much as it all was breaking her heart, it was making Natalie happy, too. A beautiful messy emotion she had no name for was swelling up in her when Keith offered her his hand for a dance.

Natalie could feel the sharp ridge of his shoulder bones poking through his heavy sweater. It was nearly June, nearly graduation, but Keith was always freezing now and he pressed his cold hand into the small of Natalie's back.

"I don't think you could have picked more cliché music if you tried," Natalie said, forcing a laugh in another effort to keep back the tears.

"What can I say? The devil's in the details." Keith tipped his forehead against Natalie's. His heart was breaking, too, but in a different way. Here was Natalie, _his_ Natalie, still healthy and beautiful with a road of opportunities before her. And there he was. Keith knew his time was almost up, but he was trying his damnedest not to let it show. It broke his heart knowing he wouldn't see Natalie graduate, or at Duke or anywhere else she chose to go.

Keith wanted to give Natalie a prom. He knew she wouldn't leave him for a night to go to the actual prom. But there was something else Keith wanted to do before it was too late, and he knew Natalie wouldn't be as worried about it if it were part of the prom scene.

Natalie had been like a mother bird since the sickness really sunk itself into Keith. Always fluttering around, asking if he needed this or that and worrying about him over-exerting himself every time he did something she considered potentially exhausting.

They danced in slow, small circles until Natalie insisted Keith needed to drink some punch and rest.

"You know, partner," Keith started, figuring now was as good as a time as any to suggest the next part of the night. "This prom scene wouldn't be complete without something else."

Natalie caught onto his train of thought immediately.

"I don't know if that's a good idea, Keith. I mean, isn't your dad home?" Natalie tried to cover her concern. _What if it's too much? What if it makes him get one of the headaches? What if he can't breathe?_

Really, Natalie was expecting him to get upset and mean again, like in the goodbye scene she had pulled. But instead Keith's eyes were pleading when he said, "Natalie, please. We both know I don't have much time anymore. Just please, let me hold you one more time."

"Besides," he continued with a sad smile, "I very pointedly asked my father to step out for a few hours before you got here."

So again Natalie let Keith lead her by the hand, this time back to his bedroom.

"You tell me if it's too much, okay?" Keith hovered over her, pushing her blonde hair back so he could see her face.

"I could say the same to you," he said with a wink that made Natalie smack him on the shoulder. They both pretended not to notice Keith's flinch.

Careful of his port equipment, Natalie pulled Keith's shirt off for him. His hands were still like ice against her skin, but they left a burn in their wake that made Natalie realize, _I missed this. I missed _him.

Keith had to go slowly, but Natalie didn't mind. She wished they could go on like this forever, entirely connected and with Keith's hands in her hair and his lips on her skin. She didn't even mind the plastic of the port pressing into the skin of her breast.

It would leave a purple-blue bruise, a unique kind of love mark that Natalie didn't ever want to fade the same way Keith was.


	4. A Good Day

**_-A Good Day-_**

Keith was smiling up at her from his wheelchair. There was color in his cheeks where yesterday all she could see was yellow-tinged pallor. Natalie wouldn't go so far as to say he looked _better_, but he did look _happier._

"What's got you so smiley?" Natalie asked, setting her backpack down on his desk chair.

"It's a good day," Keith answered. Natalie had no idea what made it so good, other than the fact that it was another day they had together.

"And what makes it so good?" Natalie took a seat on his bed, and Keith swung himself out of his wheelchair to do the same.

"Well, partner, if we kept track of such trivial things, then you would know that this is the five month anniversary of the day we officially met, barring the third grade play of course."

"Of course," Natalie echoed with a smile. She didn't think it would be like Keith to remember a date like that. But in the grand scheme of things, though she loved Keith and he was her favorite person, five months is really not that long of a time to know someone.

"Which calls for a celebration of Slim Jims dipped in Twinkie cream."

Natalie realized this would not be one of Keith's grand schemes. Despite the color in his cheeks, he had gotten progressively weaker following the prom scene. He didn't walk anymore; his legs shook too much to support his frail weight.

Instead they sat cross-legged, facing each other on Keith's bed and passing the Slim Jim and Twinkie back and forth while musing about the bowling balls they left in that café.

"I hope Patsy found a good home," Natalie said. "It broke my heart leaving her sweet little self."

"Surely Cosmo is there to comfort her. Never could keep those two apart."

"No, sir. They were in it for the long haul, those two."

Their sentences were often punctuated with kisses, as both of them found that they could never have enough, even if they had been fortunate enough to have all the time in the world.

"When my obituary runs in the paper, I hope that waitress sees it," Keith said quietly.

Natalie slipped her hand into his, her lip quivering. "Don't talk like that."

"No, listen. I hope she sees it, because I know we made her mad that night, and I hope when she looks back on it that it will make her smile and I hope she tells her kids about the teenagers who left her bowling balls named Cosmo and Patsy as a tip and that they all have a good laugh about it."

"I thought I was the one who is supposed to pass on the tale of the night of the bowling balls." Natalie said, blinking her eyes to keep tears from falling.

"I want that waitress to pass it on, too. And I want the people at the insurance company to pass on that day. I want there to be a place where you and I exist that wasn't screwed up with sickness. I want us to keep existing in those stories."

"I thought this was supposed to be a good day." Natalie no longer tried to keep the tears from falling, instead letting them roll freely down her face.

"Oh, partner," Keith said when Natalie launched herself into his arms. "I barely have days left, let alone good ones.


	5. The Graduation Scene

**_-The Graduation Scene-_**

"Dun, dun-dun-dun, duuuun, duuuuun," Natalie sang, coming into Keith's room with her hands behind her back. Keith was in bed, wearing a hoodie and piled with blankets, playing Super Mario on an old Nintendo 64.

"What the heck are you doing?" He asked, barely glancing away from the screen, where he was occupied with a boss battle between Mario and Bowser. Even though he wasn't paying attention, Natalie took the graduation cap from behind her back and slipped it over his head. The tassel swung back and forth, smacking into his nose.

"What are you doing, Natalie?" Keith asked again. He pushed the tassel back from his face. Natalie pulled her other surprise from behind her back: a cream colored slip of paper rolled into a cylinder and tied with a gold ribbon.

"It's the graduation scene," Natalie said quietly. She was afraid to raise her voice above a whisper, for fear of crying. But Keith doesn't even look sad. He's smiling and even chuckling a little.

"A pity diploma. I didn't think they thought so highly of me at that place." Keith knew he had missed too much school over his high school career to graduate even if he were still in classes at that very moment.

"I assume I get to be valedictorian. I mean, I think I've earned it, being the only person in the graduating class of Keith Zetterstrom's Bedroom."

"I think that's a fair assumption to make," Natalie said, smiling despite herself.

"Good. Go sit over there. You're my audience."

Natalie did as she was instructed and sat in Keith's desk chair.

"Partner," Keith said, pointing to Natalie with his diploma. There was no way for her to know this, but Keith's heart was pounding in his chest. "The graduating class of Keith Zetterstrom's Bedroom would like to thank you for the five months of being cancerous that didn't suck. They were actually pretty great. But unfortunately, the graduating class of Keith Zetterstrom's Bedroom will soon be dwindling from one to zero."

Natalie had thought, foolishly, his little speech was going to be a joke. Instead, she could feel the hot tears rolling down her face.

"What are you talking about?" Natalie choked out.

"It's coming, partner. I can feel it. I've been cold for months…but this feels different. And I'm so tired. Waking up and staying awake is getting harder and harder. I'm sorry. I've been trying to hold out for your graduation…I just don't think I will."

This was the thing Natalie was learning about grief: It was a great divider. It was a paralytic. Natalie _wanted_ to go to his bed, but she was stuck in her chair. She was trying to breathe deeply through her nose, trying to keep the tears from turning to sobs.

"I think," Keith started, raising his eyes to hers. Natalie could clearly see that he was not exaggerating; he looked beyond exhausted. Keith took a sharp breath, letting it out shakily.

"I think we need to have a real goodbye scene soon."


	6. The Goodbye Scene, Take Two

_**-The Goodbye Scene, Take Two-**_

They didn't have a real goodbye scene, not while Keith was alive. It had been easier before, when he still looked healthy and very much alive, and Natalie had made that fake ticket and took him to the airport. Neither of them had the energy for theatrics anymore.

Instead, on a Thursday afternoon in the last week of May, Natalie was pulled from school not by her own parents but by Keith's father.

She didn't have to ask and he didn't have to be asked. He simply said, "This morning."

And that was all it took to break Natalie down in the middle of the school office and reduce her to tears that nearly turned into a panic attack and earned her an excused leave from school for the rest of the day.

The real goodbye scene didn't come until after the first day of June, when they buried him. It was an incredibly small funeral: Keith's father, Natalie, Mr. Miles, and Alan Ascher.

This was okay, though. Natalie knew Keith would have hated to have a ton of fake mourners around. It was a short ceremony, anyway. A short funeral for a short life.

But this was not the place where Natalie said goodbye to Keith. It would have been too typical; it wouldn't have fit their most atypical love affair at all. Natalie did kiss her fingertips and then press them to Keith's lips where he lay inside the coffin, transferring one last kiss to him, but she didn't say goodbye.

The obituary ran the day after the funeral. Natalie bought two copies of the newspaper and cut Keith's picture and all-too-short life story out of each.

She took one to copy to the office building where they'd had the picnic, and she tacked it to the first bulletin board she saw.

The other copy went to the diner where they ate a before-dawn breakfast. The waitress who had served them that night wasn't there, so Natalie folded the obituary into the tip and gave it straight to the cook, asking him to give it to the woman who got bowling balls as a tip one night.

Natalie hoped the right people saw them, that they recognized Keith's face in grainy black and white and stopped and thought about the boy who briefly disrupted their lives. She knew she would never stop thinking about it.

Leaving the obituaries didn't feel like enough for a goodbye scene, either. So she did the only other thing she could think to do.

Natalie took Keith's yellow truck out to the spot of their first kiss and the first time they made love. She parked it near the edge, and put the gear in neutral. Then she climbed in the bed of the truck, lying flat on her back with her eyes towards the night sky.

This is where she said goodbye to Keith.

Natalie made a game of it: she would think of everything and let it hurt, those whole five months, from the first day in chemistry when Keith came late and called her partner for the first time to just last week when they had laid quietly in bed together because they knew what was coming and there was nothing to say.

She would let it hurt until the truck came right up to the edge and she had to jump out and stop it before it went over, and then she wouldn't let it hurt anymore.

Keith was, she was sure, the best thing to ever happen to her. And she didn't want it to hurt. So she would say goodbye to Keith and goodbye to the hurt, and then she'd keep his memory inside of her—her own secret to keep forever.

When Natalie was back inside the cab of the truck, the front wheels precariously close to the edge, she sat and took big, gulping breaths. She felt empty, and she was trying to fill herself back up.

She reached for the visor, so she could look in the mirror and remind herself she was real and still alive. It was something she'd had to do at least once a day since Keith died. But when she pulled the visor down, a little square of paper came fluttering down into her lap.

Natalie picked it up and turned it over, and despite the raw empty feeling inside of her, she had to smile at what she found written on it:

_Goodbye, partner._


End file.
